


Crescendo

by Aerowax26



Series: The Arsonist's Guide to Good Manners [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Bondage mention, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Oral Sex, Reckless Driving, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 23:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerowax26/pseuds/Aerowax26
Summary: Gladio takes Ignis to the orchestra.  Ignis thanks him properly. In a moving car.One-shot.





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this belongs to a different series, since it was briefly mentioned in "Don't Say A Word" but the tone doesn't fit, so into "Good Manners" it goes.
> 
> I tagged it underage to be safe. The age difference is 18/17, so it's not really a huge deal. But just to be safe.

Ignis perches on the edge of his seat, his face all rapt attention as he watches the Royal Insomnia Orchestra preform their yearly homage to _I Want To Be Your Canary_. It's not Gladio's thing, but the cost of admission and three hours of boredom were worth the look on Iggy's face when he surprised him with the tickets at dinner.

Gladio can appreciate the artistry of an orchestral piece. He just prefers that sort of music alongside suspenseful or emotional moments in movies or games. Sitting here in a private box, just two of them, is snooze-worthy.

He loves that Iggy loves it, though. Every now and then, when the music swells or dips into the dramatic, he looks to Gladio and smiles the delighted smile of a young man who's just gotten his greatest wish fulfilled.

And for that, Gladio is willing to endure three hours of shrieking violins and thundering tympani.

He doesn't mean to, but he drifts off during the adagio and wakes when Iggy's hand grips his inner thigh lightly. He's tracing circles in time with the music against the fabric of Gladio's pants, and Gladio's dick springs to life.

Iggy's not even aware he's doing it.

Damn good thing they're in this box alone. He doesn't want to have to explain to his father why Iggy was seen feeling him up at the orchestra. He's already having a hard enough time explaining all the late nights to Clarus, and he's running out of lies.

The tempo picks up and Iggy's hand moves a little higher and squeezes. Gladio bites his lip and shoots Iggy a look he doesn't see. All Iggy's attention is focused on the stage.

Gladio's pretty sure his dick is now pulsing in time with the music. He's pretty sure he'll come in his pants if Iggy's hand goes any higher.

When it does, Gladio drops his hand to Iggy's wrist and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“You're gonna make me ruin my best suit.”

Ignis' face registers surprise until Gladio lifts his hand away and presses it to the crotch of his pants so he can feel what he's doing to him.

Iggy's smile is slow and wicked. He gives Gladio a squeeze. Gladio grunts behind clenched teeth.

“Unless you want me to fuck you during the finale, you better stop.”

“I thought fucking me _was_ the finale,” Ignis says. His smile is more of a smirk. “Or did you have something else planned?”

Gladio's dick strains against his zipper and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He weighs the risk of doing exactly that, of bending Iggy over the rail and plowing him while the orchestra gears up for the conclusion, but that would probably result in an international scandal and they'd wind up on the evening news.

Ignis relents, but he leaves his hand on Gladio's thigh, occasionally lapsing into those maddening circles with his fingertips.

It's torture. Absolute torture. He's never hated the orchestra more.

And when it's finally over, Ignis insists on pleasantries with various important people, accepts a glass of champagne from the Minister of Finance, even though he's underage. No one cares, because they all forget that Ignis Scientia is only seventeen.

No one sees the loaded looks he sends Gladio as he sips the champagne and talks about budgets and security measures.

He's toying with Gladio now, delaying this, just to get him even more worked up. Gladio knows this game. Ignis is a master of leaving Gladio hanging because he knows the longer he makes Gladio wait, the hotter it's going to be.

Ignis finally finishes the champagne and looks like he's considering another.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Gladio says, “but we've got a curfew.”

“Oh, of course,” Ignis says. He doesn't have a curfew. Technically, Gladio does, but Clarus stopped enforcing it almost a year ago. “Gentlemen, I must bid you goodnight.”

Fucking _finally_. Iggy's going to pay for this. He's _so_ going to pay.

Gladio's driving tonight, which is probably a good thing, since Ignis is now under the influence. The valet brings the car around and Ignis shoots him one of those looks from the other side of the car as Gladio opens the door.

“You just wait,” Gladio says. “You're in trouble now.”

Iggy's smug.

“We shall see.”

Gladio pulls into traffic and stops at a red light a block down. Iggy's hand slips around Gladio's thigh again and sweeps upward to palm him through his pants.

“Igs...”

The light changes, and Gladio steps on the gas. Deft fingers pluck at Gladio's belt. They undo his zipper.

Gladio's too shocked to stop him, and as Iggy's hand dips into his pants, he tips his head back and groans. His dick is so hard, it aches when Ignis frees him from his pants.

“ _Fuck_ , Iggy.”

Ignis has been known to show a bit of recklessness in training. He's a bit of a show-off when he wants to be. All gymnastics and flashy blade-work. Gladio should have expected that recklessness to come out in other areas, too, he just didn't expect him to do something like this.

They haven't been fucking that long, and so far they're feeling each other out, figuring it out, but whether it's the champagne or that Iggy has found his comfort zone, Gladio is happy to play along.

Gladio should tell him to wait. He should, but he doesn't, because Iggy's head drops into his lap and his lips brush over the head of Gladio's dick. Gladio jumps and yelps when those lips slide down the length of him and Iggy starts to suck.

 _Hard_.

Gladio's foot presses down on the accelerator by accident and he blazes through a stop light. Horns blare and tires screech, and Gladio curses because _fuck_ , this is distracting, but he doesn't want it to stop either.

Iggy's sucking on him in earnest, his head bobbing in Gladio's lap. It's hard to resist looking down. He wants to watch because there's nothing in this world more beautiful than Ignis giving head. And, man is he enthusiastic about it tonight. If he doesn't stop soon, Gladio's going to blow.

Ignis slows down the pace, but he's taking Gladio's dick deeper now, all the way to the back of his throat, and Gladio completely loses focus. The car swerves, goes up over the curb, and sideswipes a Lucis Postal Service mailbox. Ignis lifts his head.

“Eyes on the road,” Ignis says.

“That's kinda hard with you down there,” Gladio says. "Doing _that_."

“Would you like me to stop?”

He should say yes.

“Fuck no.”

Ignis' smile is triumphant as he takes Gladio into his mouth again. This time, he's somehow sucking and swirling his tongue around at the same time and it's so fucking _good_ , Gladio blows through another red light, panting, trying desperately not to grab hold of Iggy's head and face-fuck him.

He's still with it enough to realize that he needs to get off the road before he drives into the side of a building and actually _do_ wind up on the evening news.

“Gonna pull over,” he says thickly.

He chooses a side street, off the main road, and parks across from a dry cleaner and next to an industrial laundry. With a moan, he leans back against the door and shifts to the side so that he can watch Iggy's mouth on him. Ignis meets his lusty gaze and smiles around his dick, and that pushes Gladio past the point of no return.

His fingers grip the hair at he back of Iggy's head and he can't help but thrust now, because Iggy's really going for it, and Gladio can't help himself. 

It hits him fast and hard, his hips bucking upward, his muscles taught, and he comes in Iggy's mouth, his dick pulsing between those beautiful lips. Iggy swallows him down, the motion of his tongue still working against Gladio almost too much to take.

Gladio slumps against the door with a low groan and closes his eyes until his breathing and racing heartbeat slows.

Ignis sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of of his hand, a cocky, satisfied smile on his face.

“A little warning next time?” he asks.

_Next time. Hell yes._

“Yeah, sorry,” Gladio says, his voice gone husky. “The hell did you learn how to do that?”

“I'll never tell.”

Iggy slides in and kisses Gladio slowly, sensually. Gladio curls an arm around his neck and kisses back. He can taste himself on Iggy's lips. Iggy's smile is still smug.

“You just wait till I get you home,” Gladio swears. “You're in for a long night.”

Gladio pictures using Iggy's tie for things other than neck decorarion.  He's willing to bet his wrists will look incredible wrapped in red silk and lashed to his headboard.

Ignis laughs, grins and tucks Gladio back into his pants. Pats him on the thigh. 

“Do your worst.”


End file.
